I Had a Flat Tire

One perfect spring day, I loaded my car and headed for a spiritual gahtering in Ohio. It was a ten-hour drive from Memphis.

Mystical journeys often come with hurdles; mine came in the form of a flat tire. Fortunately when my tire gave way, I was close to an auto shop. The owner was straight with me, “Little lady, your tire cannot be fixed and your other tire is about to go. You need two new tires.” The tires were rough. Only a month away from the end of my car lease, I had not wanted to buy new tires. He was right. The car needed new tires, which were not in stock, so I had to wait for their delivery. This was going to take a while.

Undaunted by the delay, I took stock of my surroundings. The shop was orderly and everything sparkled. Rather than read a magazine, I met the owners and workers, explored, and asked questions. The shop opened its doors two weeks ago. This place was special. It was someone’s dream come true.

We talked of business and babies and serving others. They glowed with a sense of pride. It felt as if I was talking to our countries founding fathers. Each worker had a story, a family and big dreams.

When I left, six men stood waving and wishing me luck, “Come back, don’t forget us.” My interest in them flowed back to me. I felt inspired, cherished, and loved. Life incorporated the inconvenience and made it an integral part of my journey. What a trip.

Ordinary sacred moments continue to outshine my planned special events. The Ohio spiritual gathering was expansive. I walked on fire, and studied with indigenous elders, but when people asked about my trip, I answered “Well, I had a flat tire.”

Originally Published in The Science of Mind Magazine June 2009